


Starbucks

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-11
Updated: 2006-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: It was raining in London.





	Starbucks

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: For [](http://awallens.livejournal.com/profile)[**awallens**](http://awallens.livejournal.com/).  


* * *

It was raining in London. Charlie Apparated right into a puddle that was deep enough to spill into his boots, which gave him wet socks. He cursed under his breath and hurried out of the alley to cross the street. It was late and he’d been dozing when Hermione had woken him. After his attempts to put her off failed, he’d rolled out of bed, put on a pair of old track pants and the first shirt he could find, and Apparated to London.

It was a definite sign that he came to this place too often when he entered and the clerk addressed him by name. Charlie ran his fingers through his wet hair and walked to the counter. “Wasn’t sure this place would still be open.”

“Another half hour,” the clerk, a young man that Charlie had caught ogling Hermione’s breasts on more than one occasion, now that he thought about it, said. “A hot chocolate, right? Venti?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, with some of those cinnamon sprinkles. She likes those.”

“I think it’s so sweet that you come out in the rain to buy your wife hot chocolate,” the young girl behind the counter said. She sighed in a girly way that made Charlie shift uncomfortably.

“Uh, well, she’s not able to get out very well,” he stammered, catching himself before he said that she’d been told to restrict her Apparating.

“That’s so romantic,” the girl told him. “When I get old, I’m going to find a man who goes to get me hot chocolate in a rainstorm.”

“Old?” Charlie frowned at the silly chit, as he was now convinced the Muggle was touched in the head, and muttered, “We’re not old. Hermione is only twenty-four.”

“Cella, would you stop your sighing,” the guy grumbled as he shot the girl a dirty look. “You’ll scare away the customers. I’m sorry, Mister Weasley. You know how these girls get.”

Cella, as the girl seemed to be called, rolled her eyes before she smiled at Charlie. “When is she due? The last time you two came in, she was so huge!”

“She’s not huge,” Charlie denied as he thought about Hermione. He liked the round belly and the way she sort of waddled now when she walked. He found it adorable, actually, and far sexier than he planned to admit to a couple of nosy Muggles. “She’s due in six weeks and has been told to take it easy, which is why I‘ve been coming to get her hot chocolate.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Cella asked as if she had never heard of privacy.

“We haven’t found out,” Charlie said in a tone that indicated he didn’t feel like discussing personal details of his life with some daft Muggle, even if she did work at Hermione’s favorite Starbucks.

“Maybe it’s twins,” Cella suggested with far more excitement than anyone should have this late at night on a rainy day.

“Here you go,” the man interrupted as he practically pushed Cella out of the way. “I added extra whipped cream since your wife usually asks.”

“Thanks,” Charlie said as he tossed some Muggle money on the counter and took the cup. It was warm against his palm and he gripped it carefully as he hurried from the store before that crazy woman started asking more questions.

By the time he Apparated home, he was soaked from the storm. He cursed as he shrugged off his coat and muttered as he kicked off his wet boots. He grumbled the entire way upstairs and scowled as his socks clung to his feet. When he opened the door to the bedroom, Hermione looked up from her book (something about ‘Baby’s First Year’ that she’d taken to reading to him at night when they snuggled under warm blankets) and smiled.

The tension left him as he walked to the bed, and he grinned as he proudly handed her the large cup of hot chocolate. “They added extra whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles,” he told her as he sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a curl away from her face.

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said as she took the cup. She removed the lid and kissed his palm. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

He thought about the rain and the wet socks, about the daft chit and the leering-at-her-breasts-previously bloke, about the waiting and nosy questions. He shook his head and rested his palm on her belly. “No trouble at all, love.”

End


End file.
